


all I see in my future is you

by rat_kink_shoesuke (orphan_account), sweet_peach_tea (orphan_account)



Category: Gattaca (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Beach Holidays, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Probably ooc, Tiny bit of Angst, not beta read lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rat_kink_shoesuke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sweet_peach_tea
Summary: Si vis amari, ama.-If you wish to be loved, love.Vincent suggests a beach holiday and Jerome cannot refuse. Irene tags along too.
Relationships: Irene Cassini & Jerome Eugene Morrow, Irene Cassini & Vincent Freeman, Vincent Freeman/Jerome Eugene Morrow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	1. the distance keeping us from meeting surely isn’t important

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BokChoytheAlpaca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokChoytheAlpaca/gifts).



Jerome hasn’t seen Vincent too much recently. Space journeys take time; he knows that, and Vincent can’t help it. No one can. Vincent wanted this life, and Jerome is happy for him.  
To tell the truth, however, Jerome is happiest when Vincent is sitting flesh-and-blood in front of him.  
He sips the bitter green tea he cradles in his hands, the taste drying out his mouth.  
“How was the trip?” Jerome asks, trying to create some basic semblance of conversation. Vincent grins. “It was so much fun! You know, I still can’t get over the experience of seeing the Earth from afar. It’s so cool!”  
His enthusiasm is infectious, so Jerome finds himself smiling too.  
“What did you do while I was gone?”  
“Nothing special.” Honestly, Jerome doesn’t know. His life has been divided into two parts: with Vincent and without Vincent. Obviously, he enjoys the time with Vincent the most. But when Vincent is away, life has to continue. He goes on as usual, like before Vincent ever let himself into his life. But it's different, because now he has something to look forward to.  
Even though 7 months for Vincent feels like nothing in cryostasis, for Jerome it’s forever. So, he cherishes the spare weeks or months he gets with Vincent by his side, knowing that each gap where he’s gone could be longer than the last.  
“How about we do something special then? Since we don’t have much time.”  
“Like what?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we could go to the beach or something? Camp there?”  
“That sounds nice.” His dry voice sometimes sounds too sarcastic for his liking. Jerome is really looking forward to it, to spend these precious moments with his closest friend. Companion. How should he describe Vincent? These platonic sounding words seem inadequate for the relationship they have, but anything more would be dangerous.  
“Sure. Let’s go to the beach just outside the city. I’ll invite Irene too.” Vincent picks up the phone and is ready to dial before the look on Jerome’s face stops him.  
“You’re asking Irene?” His voice is quite unlike anything Vincent has ever heard.  
“Yeah. What’s the matter?”  
“It’s just that…” Jerome thinks back to the terrible investigation they both had to go through. He played a minor role, but his first and only interaction with Irene was truly a series of misunderstandings. He can’t get it out of his head at times, and he doesn’t have the courage to apologise to her. Vincent quickly picks up on what Jerome is trying to skirt around.  
“You don’t have to worry. We talked about it, and she’s totally fine with it.”  
“Are you sure?” Jerome looks away, noting that the corner on his left is quite dusty.  
Vincent puts down the phone and sits back into the seat he had just gotten up from.  
“Don’t worry about it, Jerome.” He smiles, and it's bright and beautiful. “You’re worrying too much. Irene is really nice. We’re all going to have a good time.”  
Vincent picks up the phone again and dials the number, listening to it ring. “Besides, I have some things to tell her too. We haven’t caught up in a while.”

As Irene picks up, Jerome ponders on this thought that he possibly could have been trapping Vincent, possessing him away from other people.  
He doesn’t want that. He wants the best for Vincent. He wants him to be happy.  
He’s snapped out of the thoughts by the soft click of the phone being put down.  
“She’s coming, and excited as well!” He beams brightly.  
“When are we going?”  
“Tonight. So, we better start packing!”


	2. we’ll sail the seas, the skies, the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins

Long car trips are not Vincent’s forte.   
Flying in space is fine. After the initial wonder of seeing the tiny blue dot of Earth escape his vision, he can simply put himself to rest for three or so months and wake up in a new exciting place.   
He wishes he could do the same for car trips, but there is no way Jerome can drive. Vincent takes it in stride, then, knowing that he is doing this to look after Jerome. He hits a road bump at speed and hears Jerome curse in the backseat.  
“Christ, Vincent. I’m grateful they’ve automated the flying in space.”  
“Sorry.” He responds, not really knowing what else to say.   
“Just slow down. You could cause an accident.”  
They’re both quiet after that, especially as Vincent ponders if Jerome’s choice of words was intentional. 

A few more speed bumps later, they’re at the beach. Irene is already there, and she waves to them cheerfully.   
“I found a cute spot! It’s pretty and there are rock pools nearby as well.”  
“Sounds cool!” Vincent replies, and he sets to work removing Jerome from the car, and then removing everything else they brought. He puts down the tent set- Irene has her own tent, but Jerome and Vincent have only one, which they had to dig up from the bowels of Jerome’s storage. They don’t really have anything that belongs to either of them anymore. They share everything, barring Jerome’s wheelchair. Vincent chuckles at that possibility.   
He notices how Jerome sits there, watching, lost. He beckons him closer. Jerome reluctantly wheels over.   
“Irene, you remember Jerome, don’t you?”  
She smiles. “Of course! How could I ever forget?” Jerome grimaces. This was not the kind of second meeting he wanted. Irene seems to realise this, and changes tactics.  
“It’s really nice to see you again. Vincent talks about you all the time when we have the chance to chat!”  
“He does?”   
“Oh yes, of course! Sometimes he won’t stop!”   
She puts down her tent and begins hammering the pegs into the sand. It isn’t windy, luckily. Jerome, conscious of his uselessness, simply watches. It takes a while for her to set up her shelter, but it is skilfully done. Vincent walks over and comments.   
“You set up that tent really well.”  
“Oh yeah. When I was young, my parents took me camping a lot. Suppose they wanted to make it up to me for the years they didn’t expect me to live.”  
Vincent laughed. “But look at us now.” He begins to turn to get more things out of the car, but looks back to eyeball Jerome, who sighs. He knows exactly what Vincent is prompting him to do.   
“Irene, about our first meeting…”  
“Hm?”   
“Oh, I’m sorry for the thing I made you do…when Vincent was being investigated.”  
Irene waves a hand in the air, dismissing his concerns. “Don’t worry. We all did what we had too.”  
She drops the large log she’s carrying at Jerome’s feet. “Besides, you did what you thought necessary to protect Vincent, and it worked out in the end. I mean, we both had to play our part in order to save Vincent, right? It’s just something to laugh over now.”  
She walks away to get more wood for the fire out of her car, and Jerome watches her, his brow slightly furrowed. 

Jerome is the perfect trolley for many of the heavy items. He puts up a slight protest when the icebox is dumped into his lap, but wheels it over to the camp eventually.   
Soon, the camp is set up, and Vincent can’t help but feel that they’ve done a good job. Irene applauds the firepit they’ve managed to set up, and even Jerome quietly smiles.   
They’re here. They’ve marked their place as their own, and they’ve done something in this world. It’s their own little planet that they’ve found on this world, which is a galaxy of people and places. Jerome turns this thought over in his mind, again and again.   
\---  
It’s quiet, the beach which they had chosen to make their haven. Jerome appreciates this, appreciates the lack of hustle and bustle and noise. He closes his eyes and lulls himself into the gentle sleepiness that surrounds him. The fire crackles, and Jerome knows he is safe, that he doesn’t have to care about anything just this once; it’s just him and Vincent and Irene and the deep sea.   
A beach bonfire. The glowing crackles scatter their shadows, and they fall into the forest which watches from behind.   
He never thought he’d be here. The directions which Life steered him in seemed wildly contrary from where he was sitting now. First, as the ultimate human, powered purely by genetics, destined for a life in the spotlight. Then, as a worthless failure, living out the rest of his miserable days trapped in a mansion which was more like a prison.   
Now, something else. Vincent has gifted him this opportunity, one which he is slowly learning to cherish, to grasp with both his hands cupped wide.   
“Here.” A soft voice says, and Jerome is woken from his pondering slumber. Vincent hands him a half glass of a brown liquid. He sniffs it. It’s good, strong whisky.   
“Where did you get this?” He asks Vincent.  
“Well, you get quite a few benefits working as an astronaut.” He and Irene giggle, and Jerome is once again reminded of how alone, how different he is. He is different after all.   
It's strange how quickly his mood changes, but there's always someone that can make him feel better.   
Him.   
Vincent turns to Jerome, flush with the excitement of the night.  
“Let’s have a toast!”  
Jerome looks at him, notices the sparkle in his eyes and how looking into them makes him feel like he’s gazing into a galaxy of stars, the gentle flecks of green and blue look like a supernova exploding inside the universe that is Vincent Freeman.   
“What for?” He asks. Vincent grabs Jerome’s hand, and their fingers lock together. His face heats up, and Jerome knows it’s not only because of the fire.  
“For this moment. And the future.”  
Jerome smiles, finally.  
“Yes, I suppose. And for us too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irene: why am I here


	3. it is always darkest before the dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the night gets darker, and so does this fic (jk its only a little angsty nothing too heavy)

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the drinks is how easily Irene holds her alcohol. Jerome knocks back his glass, then has no more. Vincent only has a tiny amount. He doesn’t want to risk anymore, knowing he can’t control his blabbering mouth at the best of times. The atmosphere is too precious here, and if he disturbs it and swishes the comforting fog that has settled around him, he’ll never be able to forgive himself.  
The night grows on, and they talk, although Vincent notices Jerome hardly contributes. He tries to include him, but it’s difficult. So many of their conversations are completed through glances, simple looks at one another where they both just understand what the other is trying to say. It’s hard to put those feelings, so fleeting and succinct, into words, especially as none of them have felt their heart beat like this before. Irene’s eyes sometimes dart between the two of them, but Vincent feels like she knows, too.

So when Jerome announces he is going to look at the stars alone, Vincent lets him wheel off. He doesn’t wish to interrupt, especially when Jerome is probably pondering what he could have been. Vincent knows he regrets it. When they first met, there was no hint of any remorse on the parplegic man’s part. But Vincent has felt it growing inside of him, like a creeper entwining its limbs around an old, exhausted tree. He wants to help so desperately, to run after the slowly disappearing man, but he can't: he knows Jerome needs some time alone, to piece together his feelings and thoughts slowly.  
It’s late now (Vincent’s not sure when exactly), and the two left are silent. The moonlight swings between them, a slow dance with the stars and the sea, that twirls around the world and between them too. Vincent decides to break the silence.  
“I worry about him sometimes.” He confesses to the stars, words bouncing around the campfire. The crackling hides his voice as Jerome travels far away to look into the sky.  
“I do too. Just from what you tell me, and watching him just then.” Irene replies, and shakes her head, sipping from her glass, seemingly for comfort. “But I think you’re doing a good job.”  
“At what?” He stares at her, as a smile grows on her face. She tucks her hair behind her ear, the firelight illuminating her face.  
She lets out a laugh disguised as a sigh, or maybe its the other way around. “Being yourself.”  
He doesn’t quite understand, but he keeps his mouth shut.

It takes half an hour for the pair to realise that Jerome may be stuck. Vincent goes out to retrieve him.  
The soft beach sand gives way, squishing itself in between his toes. He follows the railroad tracks that Jerome has imprinted into the sand.  
They lead him to a small enclave, a shelter. Vincent’s assumption was correct.  
“So you came in the end.” Jerome says, staring straight ahead into the deep black ocean.  
“Were you expecting to be abandoned?”  
“Hmph, maybe.” Jerome lets himself be pulled out of the bog. Vincent struggles, but his strength soon overcomes the shifting sands, and soon enough they are on their way back to the camp.  
Vincent can’t understand. They seem to have such special moments, and then they part in awkwardness. Their red strings of fate dance around each other, intertwining and darting around, but never connecting.  
“I would have come for you no matter what.” He mutters. “I won’t ever abandon you.”  
Jerome doesn’t react, so Vincent assumes he hasn’t heard anything; it’s probably for the best, anyway.

When they get back to the camp the fire has died down to ashy embers, which flicker with their last remnants of life. Irene puts it out of its misery by dumping a bucket of seawater on it.  
“I’m going to bed.” She announces, suggesting they do the same. Vincent nods in agreement.  
“Goodnight, Irene.” He says.  
“Sleep well.” She retreats into her own tent, and Vincent and Jerome are left with that same awkwardness that rubs between them sometimes.  
\---  
Jerome stirs uncomfortably: he’s not used to sleeping on a ground which shifts and slides with every move he makes. The fact that there is a lump of sand right on the edge of where his feeling ends doesn’t help either. With nothing else to do, he stares at the ceiling of the tent. It doesn’t take him long to decide it is dark.  
Jerome can’t help but feel this night has ended too early. He has so much to say, so much that the thoughts and words are ready to spill out of him. They bubble up and wait to be released, but nothing ever comes of it.

Their relationship is bland, almost. Not because of the conversation, or the interactions they have with each other, because God, does Jerome love every single moment he spends with Vincent, but because nothing ever seems to change. He knows what he feels for Vincent is true, and real, and pure. He loves it, loves even the small rush of dopamine he gets when he sees Vincent's smile, but nothing is changing. They're as close as they can be whilst staying 'friends', but that's not good enough for Jerome. But he's scared, too scared to do or so anything that just might ruin their relationship.

Whatever. He’s too drunk to care right now, even though he’s only had half a glass. To be honest, that’s probably just an excuse for what he’s about to say. The words swirling in his mind force their way out.

“I knew you’d come for me eventually, Vincent.” He says, exhaling his thoughts into the air. “But you abandon me all the time. Even if you don’t mean to.” There is no response, as he expected; the silence is deafening and comforting. So he continues. “But when you’re gone, I miss you too much for us to be friends. And I know that we can’t keep pretending we’re something we’re not. We both know we’re not friends, and we’re not lovers. We’re something in between, aren’t we?”  
There’s no answer from Vincent except for a gentle sigh. Jerome can feel his chest move up and down, much slower than his own breathing. His heart is beating too fast to be in any sort of dreamy lull, but then again, maybe this is all a dream? He screws his eyes shut and thinks this, dreading opening them to the dismally grey world he lived in before Vincent came along. He quickly opens them, and is greeted only with the gentle softness of the night. Jerome almost sighs in relief, but restrains himself.  
“I just want you to know that you have a choice. About us.” Jerome pushes on, his voice quieter than the lap of the waves and the twinkle of the stars just outside his tent. “And whatever choice you make, I’ll understand. I want what’s best for you, of course. But I’ll always love you.”

He kisses Vincent on the forehead and closes his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, he feels Vincent snuggle up closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this would be a dream to do....beach camping...hell yeah....
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. whisper those forgotten words to the winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is not the waves which drown people, it is the people who drown in waves, until there are no ashes for them to rise from, no flaming phoenixes.

The sun through the tent shines on Vincent’s face. He blinks and squints through the glare. 

Jerome is still asleep, which isn’t really a surprise. He was never one for waking up early. Vincent studies him, his well groomed hair that has been tousled by salty sea air, the bridge of his nose and the cut of his jawline that made his knees weak and his stomach uneasy, and how perfectly long and delicate Jerome’s eyelashes were. If he concentrated, Vincent could see a couple of sand grains hitchhiking on the gentle flutter of Jerome’s eyelids. 

_ I’m so lucky,  _ Vincent reminds himself,  _ I’m so lucky that I get to be here and oh so close to Jerome Eugene Morrow and watch him sleeping so peacefully.  _

They stay like that for a while, Vincent barely daring to move, in awe of the marble sculpture in front of him. He's so focused on Jerome that he doesn't notice the slight tickle in his nose until it finally builds up and explodes into a sneeze, right in both of their faces. 

A million apologies later, and a trip to the water for Jerome to clean his face, Irene finally suggests they explore more of the coast. Vincent gratefully accepts this distraction, and they start wandering off. 

There's an abundance of life on the shoreline, from starfish, to seagulls, to lumps of sand in the water which surely hide dozing crabs.

Vincent thinks that maybe they should start studying the ocean, and find out the wonders that dwell in the deep. After all, the sea is a reflection of the stars, and there’s so much for humans to discover in places like the Mariana Trench or even the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. 

He’d sign up for a mission like that. Vincent muses over the idea. After all, he was pretty certain that deep sea capsules would be like space stations. Seeing anglerfish in real life would be cool, too. 

Vincent is jolted out of his daydream by Jerome. 

“Look.” Jerome points. “It’s a couple of sea stars.”

“Wow!” Exclaims Irene, and she snaps a photo. Jerome smiles.

“You’re a good shot.”

It’s surprising to Vincent, Jerome and Irene bonding over the smallest things. He’d have never thought they’d get along this well. But they did, and now they’re here, together. 

“Ah! Dolphins!” She exclaims, and they’re children again, caught in the wonder of all these new things. The graceful creatures leap into the horizon, their playfulness infectious. The trio stand there watching them for a while. Vincent and Irene giggle at the almost silliness of the situation, and Jerome feels himself smile too. He’s been doing that more lately, he realises. 

In the afternoon, Vincent goes for a swim, and Irene follows him into the depths.

Irene surfaces, and Vincent seizes this opportunity to ask her his lingering question. 

“What did you mean? Yesterday, you know. When he left.”

“Can’t you see?” She smiles. "Jeez, Vincent. For such a social butterfly you're a bit clueless when it comes to social cues." 

He laughs a bit, trying to hide his embarrassment, but he knows Irene is right deep down. 

Well, it's not that he hasn’t noticed the little signs that Jerome gives off, but it's more that he tries to ignore them. Not because he doesn’t appreciate the attention (because of course he does, he loves every look and smile from Jerome, treasures them in his heart), but because he’s afraid of getting it all wrong.

He swims back to shore, rejoining his land-based friend ( _ still only a friend _ , he notes, frowning). 

"Hm. You guys look like you're having fun." Jerome comments, with only a hint of regret in his voice. 

Vincent wants to include him. 

“Why don’t you come into the water?” He asks, forcing it out with every ounce of the bravery he has left. Now that he’s said it, he has to face the consequences.

Jerome’s eyebrows raise. Vincent continues. “I mean, I could hold you afloat, and we could drift in the water together…”  _ I mean, things like hydrotherapy exist, right? _

Jerome chuckles and Vincent pales, not out of fear, but instead of the accelerando his heart decides to do at Jerome’s quiet laugh. 

“It sounds fun. A part of me would like to.” Vincent beams. The waves are inviting and lulling, but the ocean is dark, deep, and almost sweetly mysterious. 

“But, I don’t know. The water is still…” He trails off, and the words left unsaid reek of poison and regret. “You know. I’m sure you do.” 

“You don’t have to win. It isn’t a race.” The words tread lightly off his tongue, trying to find a way to skirt around that unpleasant topic.

“Everything in life’s a race, in the end.” He says, looking up into the sky, clouds strewn across the blue. 

“No one else is racing you in the ocean. You can just slip into the water and float on the waves, bouncing over the surface.”

_ It is peaceful.  _ Vincent thinks.  _ It’s more peace than the both of us have ever probably known.  _

Jerome grimaces, wind beaten lips pulling themselves apart as they gather on the left side of his face, like a crack in a mirror . “I’ll be there one day, Vincent. But today isn’t the day.”

_ Ah. _ He thinks, the just spoken words caressing his mind. 

“It’s okay.” He says, trying to search for something more. “I’ll…I’ll be with you on that day. When you’re ready.” 

Jerome smiles at the man facing him. “I know you will, Vincent. I’ll wait for that day too.”

_ Then, you’d surely know I’d wait for you forever.  _

The car hums, and they’re back to the same silence they had when coming here. Finally, it’s broken by Jerome’s soft exhale. 

“I’m sorry for what I said on the way here.”

Vincent sniffs and clears his throat. “You mean…?”

“Yes. That was harsh of me.”

Silence falls again, as Vincent tries to find the right words to say. 

“Didn’t you say it wasn’t an accident? Didn’t you throw yourself on the road?”

“Yes.”

“Then…?” 

Jerome places his arm on the windowsill, the cool breeze ruffling his hair and messing it up. Two days ago, Vincent’s image of Jerome Eugene Morrow was a perfectly polished man who was meticulous to cover up the cracks of his shell, to prevent anyone from getting close.

Now all that has changed, and he can put his hand on Jerome’s without fear of it shrinking back. So he does, and it feels right. Just the two of them again, sharing in a moment they won’t ever again. 

“I regret it a bit now.” Jerome gazes out the window, watching the silver sea shrink into the distance. “At first, I thought I deserved it. Even though I couldn’t do some things ever again, I saw it as my punishment.

But now, I really want to be able to do stuff with you, like walking on the beach, and swimming in the ocean. Maybe I could have even played that game with you.”

Vincent suppresses a smile, knowing that if they played Chicken it could not have ended well. 

_ Actually, what if I saved him like Anton? Maybe that could have led to something… _

He shakes those thoughts out of his head. It's really not the time.

"Jerome..." He says quietly. 

"Vincent, our life together could...no, it should have been so much better. I wouldn't have been so useless. I wouldn't have been such a burden for you." 

It’s true and thorough, the regret that tinges and weighs down the air. Vincent doesn’t like it. He can’t breathe. 

“Jerome!” He gasps out. “Please. We both know there’s no point in thinking things like that!” Through his peripheral vision, Vincent sees his eyes widen. 

_ Ah. This isn’t safe. Plus… _

He pulls the car over to the side of the deserted road. It's unpopular enough for there to be a 30 minute interval between each vehicle sighting. 

“Jerome…” He lingers on, words escaping him. Jerome sighs.

“No, it's alright. It’s just a regret that's far too late.” He lets out a half wheezy laugh. “It’s strange, isn’t it? That for so long, I didn’t care. But now, months, years after it happened, I find myself wanting to go back and change what I did.”

“I hate to point this out, but if you hadn’t done that, we never would have met.” Vincent really does dislike being Devil’s Advocate, but Jerome is slipping, and he doesn’t know how to reach him. 

“I guess not.” Jerome huffs out a breath through his nostrils. “Does everything really happen for a reason?”

“This might be too selfish of me, but I’m really glad we met.” Vincent clenches his fists against his thighs, which can’t stop bouncing up and down. Jerome reaches his hand over and places it on his leg, which slowly calms. “I’m really happy I got to meet you...before I died from some…rare heart condition or whatever…”

Jerome grimaces at the last comment, but quickly hides it with a wry smile. “I’m happy I got to meet you too, after I died.”

Vincent’s breath hitches. “But you didn’t die then, did you? Or have I been hallucinating all this time and magically making those DNA machines fake results?” He half laughs, trying to make Jerome smile again. Instead, Jerome’s eyebrows furrow down and together.

“Hm, I guess die is a bit dramatic of a word. But if I was to continue with that metaphor, then maybe now is my rebirth. My resurrection. My second chance.”

Vincent tilts his head a little bit, eyes wide open at Jerome’s words.

“When I lost that race, I thought that was the worst thing that happened to me. When I woke up in the hospital, I thought  _ that  _ was the worst thing that happened to me. But maybe, if I look at it objectively now, it might have been the best.

The injuries, the paralysis were never what I was really hurt about. In the end, I could always live with it. But the feeling of burning, unending, solitude, both before and after the ‘accident’, was too much.

But now, I have you. And I’ve wanted to live more than I’ve ever before. If not only for me, but for someone else.” He squeezes Vincent’s hand tightly, his lifeline. Jerome throws his gaze back up to Vincent, who has large tears running down his face. He wipes them away with his sleeve. 

“Jerome, I...I’m sorry I’m crying. I should be smiling for you.”

“No, it’s alright. I’d have needed to tell someone, and I’d have rather it been you.” Jerome gives a half laugh and looks out the windshield. The trees sway gently in the breeze, much needed relief from the shimmering heat which enveloped both the shore they had came from and the gray city which they’re travelling to. 

“Ah...thank you so much.” Vincent wipes away the last of the tears and manages to regain a somewhat shaky smile. Jerome returns the expression. 

“Come on.” He says. “Let’s go home.” 

He doesn’t think about how perfectly an _I love you_ would have fit in there. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the ending is a bit rushed lol but I did want to finish it and I wasn't sure which direction to take it  
> Hope its nice to read and a bit cathartic too! :)


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one knows the future. We’re always heading towards a cloudy, ashen sky. But if you just wait, nothing will change. We must take one step at a time, into a future...where we don't know what will happen. Thinking of those we love...we look up at the sky...and think to ourselves that tomorrow will surely be a good day."

“You’re leaving again.” Jerome notes, watching Vincent bustle around. “When?” 

He stops completely in his tracks, skidding to a halt. 

“There’s no need to act so surprised. Do you think I just forget about you whenever you go on one of your missions?”

"Well, yeah, good point. Sorry." 

Jerome sighs. It's only been a few days since they came back from the beach and he already misses the feelings there. He looks at one of the photos that Irene took and posted over. It's him and Vincent one the beach, talking. It seems like the emotion that was shared between them then has slipped away, only seen through the frozen memories of these pictures. It’s truly a shame, he thinks. He wants to reclaim those moments again, but for now he’ll have to make do. 

“So how long will you be away this time?”

“It’s not as long this time. Only a fortnight.”   
_ ‘Only…’  _ Jerome bitterly thinks.  _ That’s still 14 days.  _ His heart is already starting to ache and long for Vincent. He tries to change the subject. 

"How's your health holding up?" 

"Ah, well, I've been lucky so far."

_ Yes,  _ Jerome thinks.  _ We've both been lucky. Me especially, I think. _

Life had given him many opportunities, mostly through chance or through decisions out of his control. 

_ I just want to grab Vincent’s hand, and tell him to never go into space again. To stay here on Earth with me. To tell him that he can’t take that risk anymore, because one day, his heart might give out, and I’ll be here alone again.  _

“Vincent.” He utters with a hint of hesitation that makes it quiet, but he hears anyway.

“Yes?”

“Can you come here?” Jerome wonders about all the things he wanted to say, all the things he thought about constantly, and the future he wished for. This weight he carried each day didn’t have to be there. 

He was almost certain Vincent felt the same well. The looks and smiles they shared, the way Vincent always got flustered at inopportune times, the desperation in his voice on that car ride home-it would be stupid of Jerome to try and ignore those signs. 

Words seemed to fail him though, so he simply dragged Vincent closer and closed his eyes. 

He kisses Vincent on the lips, like he always wanted to do: the thought plagued (or maybe fulfilled) his dreams of both day and night, whispering  _ I love you _ between them. 

He was right, then. Vincent did taste like the softest marshmallow clouds on a neverending summer’s day, mixed with a hint of honey and smoke from the bonfire. 

He’s going to enjoy that taste. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just had to add an epilogue to resolve all of that somewhat melancholy romantic tension and to end on a high note. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this!! I hope you enjoyed this wonderfully emotive rollercoaster.
> 
> As always, nothing is beta read, so if there's any glaring mistakes, please comment!

**Author's Note:**

> My final work on this movie which I have never watched. I hope you enjoy it :) It was really a journey to write this, but also one full of fun.


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